Convertible (feat. DareDevil)

Clibbo!
Yeah, yeah, yeah (uh)
(Clibbo, you crazy for this one)
This the anthem

Yeah, yeah, let's go
Cash in my pocket, it's glued to me (uh)
Look at at my pocket, no Junobie (uh)
These niggas rap more than Rumnidee (uh)
Spin on his block like it's fun to me (ooh)
Black bitch fatter than snow bunny (ooh)

Fast car, whiplash, Maserati (uh)
Fuck i just bought my lil' bitch and new body
Beat out the back, Whitney Bobby
Fuck it, I might drop them racks on a Masi'
Pull up on a bitch, sloppy toppy

Fuckin' on niggas hoes, that ain't nun' new to me
Beat up the block, eat it up like it's food to me
All of you niggas sellin', stay away from me
I been thuggin' too long, fuckin' caught me a felony
Shoot up his block, ain't no cryin', no sympathy

Choppa gon' sing, violin, ain't no symphony
I send some bullets back if you tryna beef with me
Lick after lick forgot it meant good to me
Bitch aftеr bitch and they tryna get rid of me
All of thеse niggas, they owe me like 50G
If a nigga owe, I let off a 50B

AK with a drum, I knock off his shoulder
To a hundred, huh? Bitch, ain't no foldin' me
Havin' that green for the low, ain't no clover leaf
Four wit' the Wock, I ain't sippin' no Hennessy
Got a lil' spin on this block, are you kiddin' me?

Gave her a dose of that dick, she a dopamine
Beat up that pussy, don't want you lil' petty bitch
Cash in my pockets, got big racks, fat as shit
UPS, USPS, we don't FedEx shit, go (go, let's go)

I'm a businessman, I help myself (help myself)
Don't know to sing, but I know how you feel
I want the belt, the one that's made by chanel (double CC)
Don't let me work with you

'Cause I'm gonna take all yo' clientele (yeah)
And I know that I end up well
And I know that you goin' out sad, I can tell
What's a vertebrae?
I got the whip, it's convertible (skrrt)

And I'm drivin' your bitch, she a squirtable (huh)
Booted up off the drugs, it feel wonderful
Got a whole lotta cash, I got plentiful
How the fuck y'all pussies geek up on Benadryl?
Run to the cash like a muhfuckin' treadmill

I'm higher up, I can show you my pedestal
I ate up this beat, just like it's a Lunchable
Live how I want, I don't go by no schedule
I be geeked up for no reason
I'm on the sun and I told 'em it's freezin'

I got some money, some hoes, that I'm breazin'
Got a new car, it don't even got keys
I switch up my song like a muhfuckin' season
I'm way too high, I can't even believe it
Just ask me some questions, I know that I'm bleedin'
She doin' me toppy, I know that I need it

My wrist got a watch, yeah, I know that it's leakin'
My bitch got a pussy that I like to sleep in
You ask for so much, how I know that you tweakin'?
I'm seein' was comin', I got a lil' beacon
Fucked up everyday, yeah you know the feeling
I had to go up, I'm out of the deep end

Why should I go up? I got whole lotta reasons
Coupe got brown litter like a Reese's
I'm breakin' the molly down to little pieces
I'm not lyin' when I say that I'm geekin'
I'm not lyin' when I say that I'm speakin' (yeah)
I wasn't lyin' when I said the car had no keys in it
There's a reason (skrrt)

Yeah, I'ma just speak to you (speak to you)
I'ma just speak to you (I'ma just speak to you)
I'ma just speak to you (just speak to you)
I do what I want, you do what you can (what I want, yeah)
(Yeah) Everyone hate, and I don't care (yeah, Yeah!)
'Cause I got fetti on me, it's not fair (I'm not lying)

Yeah, yeah, let's go
Cash in my pocket, it's glued to me (uh)
Look at at my pocket, no Junobie (uh)
These niggas rap more than Rumnidee (uh)
Spin on his block like it's fun to me (ooh)
Black bitch fatter than snow bunny (ooh)
Fast car, whiplash, Maserati (uh)

Fuck i just bought my lil' bitch and new body
Beat out the back, Whitney Bobby
Fuck it, I might drop them racks on a Masi'
Pull up on a bitch, sloppy toppy
Fuckin' on niggas hoes, that ain't nun' new to me
Beat up the block, eat it up like it's food to me

All of you niggas sellin', stay away from me
I been thuggin' too long, fuckin' caught me a felony
Shoot up his block, ain't no cryin', no sympathy
Choppa gon' sing, violin, ain't no symphony
I send some bullets back if you tryna beef with me
Lick after lick forgot it meant good to me

Bitch aftеr bitch and they tryna get rid of me
All of thеse niggas, they owe me like 50G
If a nigga owe, I let off a 50B
AK with a drum, I knock off his shoulder
To a hundred, huh? Bitch, ain't no foldin' me
Havin' that green for the low, ain't no clover leaf

Four wit' the Wock, I ain't sippin' no Hennessy
Got a lil' spin on this block, are you kiddin' me?
Gave her a dose of that dick, she a dopamine
Beat up that pussy, don't want you lil' petty bitch
Cash in my pockets, got big racks, fat as shit
UPS, USPS, we don't FedEx shit, go



Credits
Writer(s): Clifford Owuor, Sam Claassen, Noah Oliver Smith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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